I'll Try
by Ren201
Summary: Just a little something I had to get out of my system, post season two, little bit angst is always good. One chapter


Based on the song 'I'll Try' by Jonatha Brooke because its my latest obsession

I literally have not written anything for years but recently my alias sense has been tingling…will mostly likely be rubbish and I don't expect any reviews, but need to getting this out of my system!

I suppose if I have to attach a timeline its most likely post season two…

The blanket has long since fallen onto the cold wooden floor, leaving her legs exposed to the brisk wind that blew through the open window. The curtain still in its place, swept back from the window allowing the moonlight to flood into the large bedroom. She lay staring out towards the darkened sand swept beach, a vacant look on her face as she contemplated recent events, too preoccupied to notice the blood seeping through the bandage tightly wrapped around her left thigh: another memento of a successful mission. Successful. She didn't know what that meant anymore; acquiring the latest intel, gaining information to use to further the means of others, stealing from a rival agency…her definition of successful seemed to somehow differ from that of the agency, successful was coming back battered and bruised, traumatised by the latest sleaze touching her up in some dark and dingy nightclub: could it be that she was loosing her faith in the greater good? In the back of her mind she always believed that she was strong enough to separate herself from the aliases, lies and betrayals she had so often encountered, but today she was questioning her resolve. The world has once again become a darker place, a revelation which, despite years of experience, has become even more apparent.

Closing her eyes, she felt a surge of emotions rush through her body, all uninvited, had somehow managed to escape from their tightly guarded conferment, signposted in her subconscious with skulls and crosses, protected by numerous landmines and trip wires; how they escaped were beyond her. The one person who she could turn to when she felt her fortitude failing was however so many minutes or miles away with another women who had no place in being there.

Carelessly grasping at a fresh bandage from her bedside cabinet, she wrapped it around her thigh; changing the bed sheets was not currently on her list of things to do and was best avoided. Securing it perhaps too tightly, she pulled herself up from the dishevelled bed, peeling off the remainder of her clothing she opted for a tracksuit and trainers. She knew the only comfort she could get nowadays was either from a bottle of Tequila or the hard tarmac awaiting her arrival just a few steps away and considering her growing concerns of becoming a bitter alcoholic, she knew which option was most promising.

Midnight jogs had become the norm as of late, her mind would keep her awake unless occupied with tangible and achievable tasks. It was a coping mechanism which has stayed with her since her teenage years and until recently had worked like a charm, however now; it would seem that the memories of her previous life were pursuing her at an alarmingly thick, fast and unpredictable rate. They came mainly at night but always when she alone. The tarmac offered a comfort that nothing else could, a reliability that she had grown dependent upon.

Finding herself numb and apathetic when surrounded by others was an unexpected development but one she was grateful for in comparison to the traffic accident she once was, feeling the stares of sympathy and morbid curiosity attaching themselves to her on a regular basis. They soon grew bored, finding interest in the latest melodrama to catch their attention, with still the occasional whisper directed towards her, now she barely gave them a second glance. It was only when alone the problems resurfaced, her apathy apparently not stretching far enough to cover her own judgements and memories.

Breaking her stride, it was apparent that she had strayed from her intended path, ending up at a place she had so often come but recently avoided for the fear of the significance attached to her old life, piers were easy to come by when considered that they were merely a separation of land and water, why couldn't she find herself a nice bridge to run to; surely the temptation to jump off wouldn't be that appealing? Sighing to herself, she felt that apathy begin to seep into her body; a half hearted smile crossed her lips. Leaning against the rusted railing she frowned at her recent bout of self pity, she had been doing well lately, focusing on her work, her missions, almost obsessively, receiving a vast amount of unwanted praise from her superiors but she barely acknowledged them. Continuing on with her next mission, she found herself somewhat eager to become someone else, even if only for a short time; being able to strategise and control the outcome of situations was becoming a favourite pastime: control was always a good thing to maintain in the field when it was not attainable in other aspects of her life.

Stretching out her legs, she turned on her heel and contemplated her journey back to her apartment; unaware of the pair of eyes following her every move has they had done since she had started her late night exploits. Unaware would perhaps describe the situation incorrectly, uncaring would be more fitting for her feelings, she had been aware of him watching her but refused to confront him or change her habits, she knew he would approach her soon enough but hoped it would not be a likely occurrence in the near future, it would only complicate things more than necessary and they both knew that. His actions made no sense to her; he had made his intentions clear and couldn't change the past or the commitment he had made elsewhere, so if he felt the need to watch her from afar, she would let him: perhaps it would do him some good to suffer how she had done knowing the extent of his betrayal.

It was comforting, although she would never admit it to herself, to know that he still cared for her or at least appeared to, there was always the possibility of an ulterior motivate hiding beneath the exterior waiting for her to grasp the smallest hope before dashing it away from her. A sudden and unexpected twinge tugged within her chest, rationality telling her that she had pushed herself too hard but her heart indicated something else, a faint scent in the breeze reminded her of something she could not quite put her finger on. Turning around, she stared down the dark street, dimly lit by old street lamps and a half hidden moon. Deserted. Half heartedly scanning the darkness, she moved to turn towards him, of course he was there, she has sensed it before she had realised it was him, the familiar warmth in her chest had seemed like a distant memory but now faced with him, it had been as if was always there.

"You're out late" his voice casual with undertones of anxiety. The atmosphere become tense, what was the appropriate response to a statement intended to break the ice but underpinned with so many unspoken implications.

Taking a deep breath, she responded with a slow nodding, ducking away slightly as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, a signature move she had consciously avoided for fear of showing her insecurity in such situations. For the first time in weeks she felt her composure might just slip away from her, something which she vowed to never happen with him again.

"Following women in the middle of the night is normally a characteristic of serial killers" slipped out before she could formulate a reasonable, objective reply.

He let out a nervous laugh that echoed slightly down the abandoned street, relief clearly visible on his face. He wasn't sure if she had known he had been following her, hoping she wouldn't have noticed the difficulty he had in keeping up with her if she had but he had reasoned with himself that it had been the only time he could spend time with her alone, even if they weren't together

"I'll keep that in mind"

She looked different, seeming so cold and distant when he had seen her in the office; it hurt him to know she was suffering and he could do nothing but watch. Now he saw a glimpse of the old her, the one he used to hold in his arms but could now only admire from a distance

"Is this going to be a regular occurrence?" She asked softly, feeling her body respond to him as it once used to, hoping her apathetic demeanour not betray her and hold on just a little bit longer

"I was surprised you still came here" he whispered avoiding her question, feeling suddenly as though he wanted to run away from her, the temptation to pull her into his embrace was becoming too much for him. It crossed his mind that maybe he should have remained in the background, a quiet observer to her life, he had made the decision to distance himself as much as she did. It was awkward and painful at first but necessity had forced a strained sense of professionalism from him, although he was unsure how she had interpreted that and felt anxious over how it might affect her. He had hoped under her cold exterior there was still some part of her that hadn't changed. He wanted her to the women he had once known and when he found out about her late night adventures in a drunken conversation with their painfully mutual friend and the worry he exuded, he began following her. He had always loved to watch her run, he could see small pieces of her slipping through her façade, things he recognised and it eased the growing knot in his stomach and pressure he felt constantly in his chest. He would sleep soundly after seeing her run.

"You should stop" she interrupted his thoughts, noting the tension begin to dissolve into a more comfortable silence, one they used to share but now no longer seemed appropriate.

"I'll try" he replied softly, nodding his head slowly as she began to move past him, pausing for a brief second before slowly pacing herself into a jog. He turned and watched as she began to sprint into the distance and then she was gone. He smiled despite himself, feeling a strange sense of calmness fall over him, as unrealistic as it was in his present situation, it made his life a little bit more bearable knowing that there was still something there between them even after all that had happened. They both knew that he couldn't stop and neither would do anything to change that.

Upon approaching her apartment, she stopped a few doors short of her own, tapped lightly and learned against the door frame. A small light filtered through as the door opened.

"You're later than usual, wasn't sure of you would come" a male voice said humorously, knowing full well that she would, she always did.

A brief smile crossed her face, not quite reaching her eyes as she slid past him into the softly lit room, "I need a bridge"

"Hmmm…okay, should I worry?" he asked curiously

She breathed out a distracted laugh "I wouldn't think so, the pier is getting old, too many memories. Think its time for a bit more stable, time for find a bridge".


End file.
